The  Gaining  of  Men ; 

OR, 

The  Law  of  Adaptation  to  Environment  in  Missionary 

Enterprise. 


ANNUAL  SERMON 

BEFORE  THE 


DELIVERED  TUESDAY  EVENING,  OCTOBER  10,  1893 

AT  WORCESTER,  MASS. 

BY  THE 

REV.  ALBERT  J.  LYMAN,  D.D. 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE  BOARD 

I SOMERSET  STREET,  BOSTON 


The  Gaining  of  Men,- 


• OR, 

The  Law  of  Adaptation  to  Environment  in  Missionary 

Enterprise. 


ANNUAL  SERMON 


BEFORE  THE 


DELIVERED  TUESDAY  EVENING,  OCTOBER  10,  1893 


AT  WORCESTER,  MASS. 


BY  THE 

REV.  ALBERT  J.  LYMAN,  D.D. 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE  BOARD 

I SOMERSET  STREET,  BOSTON 


BEACON  PRESS  : 


THOMAS  TODD,  PRINTER, 
7~ A BEACON  ST.,  BOSTON. 


the  Gaining  of  Men; 

OR, 

THE  LAW  OF  ADAPTATION  TO  ENVIRONMENT  IN  MISSIONARY 
ENTERPRISE. 


I venture  to  ask  your  attention,  Christian  fathers  and 
brethren,  to  the  singular,  fivefold  repetition  of  four  words 
by  the  Apostle  Paul  within  the  compass  of  a single  short 
paragraph  in  the  ninth  chapter  of  ist  Corinthians.  It  is,  I 
believe,  the  most  marked  instance  of  such  reiterated  em- 
phasis in  all  Paul’s  writings,  certainly  in  those  which  are  of 
unquestioned  authenticity. 

The  words  are,  “ That  I might  gain,”  “ That  I might 
gain."  A sixth  time,  even,  the  refrain  is  repeated  in  the 
same  connection,  with  only  a slight  change,  “ That  I might 
by  all  means  save.”  The  entire  passage  reads  as  follows  : 

i Cor.  ix:  19-23  — 19.  For  though  I be  free  from  all 
men,  yet  have  I made  myself  servant  unto  all,  that  I might  gain 
the  more. 

20.  And  unto  the  Jews  I became  as  a Jew,  that  / might 
gain  the  Jews;  to  them  that  are  under  law,  as  under  the  law, 
(“not  being  myself  under  the  law,”  as  the  Revised  Version 
adds)  that  I might  gain  them  that  are  under  the  law. 

21.  To  them  that  are  without  law,  as  without  law  (being 
not  without  law  to  God,  but  under  law  to  Christ)  that  I might 
gain  them  that  are  without  law. 

22.  To  the  weak  became  I as  weak,  that  I might  gain 
the  weak  : I am  made  all  things  to  all  men  that  I might  by  all 
means  save  some. 

23.  And  this  I do  for  the  gospel’s  sake. 

• 

It  appears  that  the  autobiography  of  the  Apostle  Paul  — 
for  the  personal  allusions  in  his  letters,  while  fragmentary } 
surely  make  up  the  most  vivid  autobiography  in  the  Bible  — 


4 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


presents  no  other  passage  so  clear  in  its  statement  of  Paul’s 
own  view  of  his  missionary  errand,  and  especially  of  the 
relations  which,  in  pursuit  of  it,  he  sustains  toward  his 
environment. 

It  embodies  what  has  been  called  Saint  Paul’s  doctrine  of 
“accommodation”  to  environment  — a doctrine,  however,  so 
liable  to  misconception  that  one  half-hesitates  to  read  the 
passage  as  our  text  tonight,  lest  he  should  seem  to  lower 
the  tone  of  a great  occasion  like  this  by  some  note  of  undue 
concession  or  even  compromise  of  principle  ; for  adaptation 
to  environment,  which  has  come  to  be  a great  phrase  in  our 
era,  has  sometimes  involved  a kind  of  surrender  to  environ- 
ment. In  such  a time  as  our  own,  an  arena  splendid  and 
novel,  full  of  new  and  peremptory  challenges  and  demands, 
we  easily  forget  the  end  in  our  attention  to  the  means  in 
conducting  the  work  of  great  Christian  enterprises.  The 
popular  cry  is,  “ Adapt  yourselves  to  the  times;”  “Adjust 
yourselves  to  your  environment;  ” “ Change  your  methods  ; ” 
“ Be  all  things  to  all  men  ! ” and  the  all-absorbing  question 
becomes  this  one  of  adjustment.  How  to  meet  the  intellec- 
tual movement  of  the  time,  for  example,  with  its  keen  and 
fresh  scrutiny  of  our  foundations  of  faith  ; or  the  democratic 
movement  of  our  time,  with  what  Emerson  calls  its  “pitiless 
publicity  ” and  its  insistence  upon  popular  representation 
as  the  basis  of  administrative  or  corporate  action  ; or  the 
business  movement  of  our  time,  with  its  practical  air,  its 
swift  changes,  and  its  impatience  of  traditional  technique. 
But  this  inevitable  anxiety  about  method  often  dulls  our 
attention  to  the  spiritual  end  which  is  sought.  In  the 
field  of  missionary  enterprise  the  supreme  and  constant 
errand  — that  of  the  spiritual  rescue  of  men  and  nations  — 
easily  fades  from  sight  in  our  enforced  and  eager  attention 
to  the  combinations  of  agency  by  which,  in  a tremendous 
and  bewildering  age,  missionary  enterprise  is  to  be  ad- 
vanced. But  worse  than  this,  the  argument  for  change  in 
method,  in  response  to  changed  environment,  is  pressed 
too  far  and  carried  to  a most  fallacious  extreme.  The  curve 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


s 


of  false  reasoning  runs  like  this:  We  must  suit  ourselves  to 
the  age,  it  is  said ; we  must  give  the  people  what  they  will 
understand  — and  accept.  So  enters  the  deflecting  fallacy 
under  cover  of  the  innocent  looking  conjunction,  and  the 
false  argument  runs  on  to  say  — we  must  preach  a nine- 
teenth-century gospel  and  meet  the  times  with  what  the 
times  demand. 

Thus,  before  we  know  it,  the  spirit  of  concession  as  to 
method  has  invaded  the  texture  of  the  message  itself.  The 
heroic  strain  of  fidelity  to  the  truth  is  relaxed.  The  old 
martial  gleam  fades  in  the  eye  of  the  missionary.  Christian 
daring  is  succeeded  by  Christian  diplomacy,  and  the  mission- 
ary spirit  permits  itself  to  be  half  conquered  by  the  world  in 
order  to  gain  access  to  the  world. 

This  sidelong  sag  toward  surrender  of  vital  principle 
makes  true  men  question  any  doctrine  of  so-called  “accom- 
modation ” to  the  times.  Hut,  on  the  other  hand,  here  in 
the  text  is  a maxim  of  the  great  model  missionary,  stated 
with  all  the  force  of  his  eloquence  and  personal  testimony, 
involving  a principle  of  response  to  environment  which, 
evidently,  he  regarded  as  vital  to  his  success. 

What  then  is  this  principle  of  Christian  “accommodation,” 
or,  as  we  had  better  say,  of  adaptation  to  environment  in  the 
work  of  missions  ? What  are  the  limitations  of  its  applica- 
tion ? What  philosophy  of  the  Christian  life  lies  back  of 
it,  and  how  does  it  apply  to  the  new  forces  which  are  re- 
modeling the  present  epoch  ? These,  honored  brethren,  are 
questions  which  have  seemed  to  me  vital  enough  and  per- 
emptory enough  to  be  not  wholly  inopportune  for  our  con- 
sideration tonight. 

For  the  imperfect  preparation  I have  been  able  to  make 
for  their  presentation  I must  crave  at  your  hands  a special 
indulgence.  The  most  shattering  blow  that  can  fall  on  a 
man  fell  upon  me  just  as  the  summer  was  opening.  Death 
struck  upon  the  dear  wife  who  for  twenty-three  years  had 
walked  by  my  side.  I have  no  child,  and  the  lonely  fight 
this  past  summer  among  the  Scottish  Highlands  to  regain 


6 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


enough  of  steadiness  to  meet  this  duty,  to  which  your  more 
than  kind  invitation  had  summoned  me,  has  left  scant  leisure 
for  that  careful  study  and  finished  statement  which  such  a 
theme  demands  and  which  a presence  such  as  this  preemi- 
nently calls  for.  But  what  I have,  I give.  Our  subject, 
then,  is  this  : 

THE  CHRISTIAN  LAW  OF  ADAPTATION  TO  ENVIRONMENT  IN 

ITS  RELATION  TO  MISSIONARY  ENTERPRISE  AT  THE  PRES- 
ENT TIME. 

Of  course  this  theme  is  too  large  for  a single  sermon, 
but  let  us  try,  if  possible,  to  discover  the  single,  central  prin- 
ciple of  St.  Paul’s  teaching  upon  the  subject  in  the  passage 
before  us. 

First.  We  need  not  delay  upon  any  restatement  of  the 
general  truth  — now  the  axiom  of  physics,  and  accepted  also 
in  the  critical  study  of  intellectual  and  moral  forces  by  most 
modern  students  — that  the  progress  of  life  depends,  or  at 
least  very  largely  depends,  upon  this  adaptation  to  environ- 
ment. 

Second.  Nor  need  we  linger  long  upon  the  further  very 
remarkable  fact  that  Christianity,  far  more  thoroughly  than 
any  other  of  the  great  religions,  approves  this  law. 

Adaptability  to  environment,  without  loss  of  essential 
quality,  is  a principle  which  lies  at  the  marrow  of  the  philos- 
ophy of  the  gospel,  and  is  clearly  illustrated  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament. It  appears,  for  example,  in  the  profoundest  parables 
of  Jesus  concerning  the  kingdom  of  God,  such  as  those  of 
the  “leaven”  and  of  the  “mustard-seed.”  It  appears  in  such 
later  revelations  as  Saint  Peter’s  vision  at  Joppa  and  address 
to  Cornelius.  It  appears  in  the  immense  yet  facile  change 
of  policy  toward  the  Gentiles  accomplished  at  the  first 
Church  Council  at  Jerusalem.  It  shines  along  the  whole 
career  of  Paul,  and  has  reappeared  at  every  vital  epoch  in 
the  Church’s  history  — a certain  divine  breadth  and  ease  of 
adjustment  to  external  conditions,  wholly  unknown  in  other 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


7 


religions,  which  yet  impairs  not  one  whit  the  persistence  of 
essential  idea  and  spirit. 

Third.  Let  me,  however,  call  your  more  careful  attention 
to  a third  point,  viz.,  that  this  unique,  double  mark  of  per- 
sistence in  radical  ideal,  combined  with  flexibility  of  method, 
has  always  been  supremely  manifest  in  missionary  enterprise. 
The  noblest  Christian  missions  always  exhibit  this  supreme 
fidelity  and  facility  side  by  side. 

Ulifas,  in  his  boat  on  the  Danube,  carrying  the  gospel  to 
the  Goths  in  the  fourth  century;  Bishop  Claudius,  of  Turin, 
“ the  Protestant  of  the  ninth  century,”  as  he  has  been  called, 
planting  the  cross  amid  the  snows  in  the  upper  valleys  of 
Piedmont ; P'liot,  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago,  in  the  Mas- 
sachusetts forests  with  his  Indians  ; Mackay,  of  Uganda,  in 
our  own  time,  gentle,  brilliant,  and  brave,  cutting  his  own 
printing  types  in  the  African  forest  and  tolerated  by  the  sav- 
age Mwanga  only  because  he  was  such  a master  at  the  forge 
— all  are  embodiments  of  the  finished  and  beautiful  power  of 
this  double  Christian  principle,  that  of  variety  of  method  with 
identity  of  spirit.  And  there  is  reason  in  this  ; for  the  mis- 
sionary, more  than  any  other  minister,  stands  out  on  the  crit- 
ical and  perilous  edge  where  the  gospel  meets  the  heathen 
world.  He,  therefore,  more  than  any  other  man,  must  employ 
the  Christian  art  of  conciliation  without  compromise.  His 
task  is  urgent  ; his  time  short  ; his  errand  is  to  save  ; and 
with  a swift  and  nimble  skill,  the  secret  of  which  is  in  the 
very  heart  of  the  Christian  genius,  he  matches  his  method 
to  the  man,  yet  without  sinking  a consonant  or  blurring  a 
vowel  in  the  divine  message  he  is  sent  to  deliver. 

Fourth.  But  missions  also  supremely  illustrate  a still 
further  principle  which  is,  I believe,  the  real  heart  of  the 
matter — that  this  wonderful  facility  of  outward  adaptation  is 
the  product  as  well  as  the  correlative  of  the  inner  spiritual 
earnestness. 

Here  we  come  upon  the  main  track  of  our  theme  ; and 
the  main  truth  which,  if  I mistake  not,  is  taught  by  our 
text,  and  which  I would  venture  to  emphasize  tonight,  that 


8 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


a reinforcement  of  the  esse7itial  missionary  spirit , its  vital 
enthusiasm,  its  humane  ardor,  its  Christlike  passion  to  save, 
is  the  one  and  the  true  and  the  only  way  in  which  to  secure 
that  broad  facility  in  readjustment,  that  fine  adaptation  to 
the  new  conditions,  which  is  now  in  demand. 

For  this  breadth  and  quickness  of  adaptation  to  the  times, 
whether  it  relates  to  organization  or  to  policy,  is  a vital  thing. 
It  must  spring  from  an  inner  source  ; it  is  no  matter  of  out- 
ward manipulation  ; it  is  the  outward  glow  of  an  inner  fire  ; 
it  is  something  too  fine  to  be  reached,  save  as  the  spontane- 
ous resultant  of  some  holy  and  beautiful  passion  of  the  soul. 

It  is  precisely  at  this  point  that  we  come  upon  the  tre- 
mendous sixfold  refrain  in  this  passage  from  the  apostle 
Paul.  The  passage  is  often  brought  forward  as  the  standard 
justification  of  variety  in  mere  method ; but,  if  so,  it  is  read 
without  the  refrain.  No  more  magnificent  assertion  of  the 
supremacy  of  end  over  method  was  ever  uttered.  All  meth- 
ods are  adopted,  according  to  Saint  Paul,  “ that  he  might 
gain,"  “ that  he  might  gain,"  and  only  “ that  he  might  gain" 
men.  What  he  means  by  “ gain  ” men  is,  as  he  himself  adds, 
that  he  might  “ save  ” men.  And  what  he  means  by  “ save  ” 
is,  as  is  evident  in  all  the  Pauline  writings,  the  saving  men  in 
Christ  — the  setting  up  of  the  image  of  Christ  within  them. 
That  is  the  heart  of  the  Pauline  idea ; it  is  the  glorious 
beauty  of  a spiritual  restoration  by  the  introduction  of  the 
very  power  and  similitude  of  the  living  Christ  within  men. 
The  burning  sense  of  this  thrilling  and  holy  end  lies  back 
of  any  Pauline  “adjustment”  in  the  use  of  means.  And, 
brethren,  is  not  a fresh  sense  of  this  supreme  end  of  mis- 
sions what  we  most  of  all  need  today,  and  in  it,  do  we  not 
come  to  a clear  knife-edge  beyond  which  concession  to  envi- 
ronment or  to  the  spirit  of  the  age  must  not  go,  but  within 
which  adaptation  to  environment  becomes  a spontaneous 
product  of  this  aroused  earnestness  to  save  ? It  is  as  though 
the  apostle  felt  that  in  admitting  such  a flexibility  in  the  use 
of  means,  he  was  avowing  a principle  which  would  be  danger- 
ous in  feeble  or  faithless  hands  ; so,  in  this  refrain  he  rivets 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


9 


down,  as  by  repeated  hammer-strokes,  the  sharp  rim  beyond 
which  the  flexible  is  to  become  the  inflexible.  It  is  as  though 
we  were  reading  a code  of  military  instructions,  but  reading 
them  in  the  intervals  of  a cannon-shot,  whose  recurrent  thun- 
der gives  us  the  sense  of  the  real  import  of  all  instructions 
and  of  the  mass  and  menace  of  the  foe ; or,  to  take  a closer 
analogy,  it  is  as  if  the  captain  of  a life-boat  were  announcing 
hurried  orders  to  his  crew  how  to  turn  here  and  there  and 
handle  the  boat  in  the  foam ; but  all  spoken  in  the  boat  itself, 
and  interpreted  by  the  flash  of  yonder  revolving  light  on 
the  shore,  whose  gleam  shows  breaking  wreck  and  drown- 
ing men  and  all  the  mournful  and  terrific  urgency  of  the 
hour. 

Method,  according  to  Saint  Paul,  waits  on  errand,  and  it 
needs  no  argument  to  show  how  this  errand  to  “gain”  men 
and  nations  in  Christ  fascinates  and  fires  the  great  apostle. 
This  it  is  which  gives  him  that  ingenium  perfervidum , that 
white-hot  passion  of  service,  which  drove  his  whole  life.  All 
the  heavens  blazed  to  him  at  the  thought  of  gaining  a man  to 
Christ.  Human  literature  contains  no  picture  which  quite 
matches  this  enthusiasm  of  Paul  for  his  Lord  and  for  saving 
men  in  his  Lord’s  name. 

It  will  not  do,  therefore,  to  read  this  passage  in  a quiet 
monotone,  as  though  it  were  a studied  schedule  of  Christian 
diplomacy,  with  a little  evangelical  cadence  occurring  at  in- 
tervals. The  cadence  is  the  theme.  It  is  the  cadence  that 
is  controlling.  Read  it  again  in  this  view  of  it  : Among 
Jews  I am  Jewish  ; then  comes  the  cannon-shot  “ that  I 
might  gain  Jews.”  To  legalists,  I am  as  a legalist;  “that 
I might  gain  them  that  are  under  the  law.”  To  freemen,  a 
freeman,  “that  I might  gain”  freemen.  To  the  weak,  weak, 
“that  I might  gain”  the  weak.  A servant  to  all,  “that  I 
might  gain  ” the  more.  To  every  one  a comrade,  for  that  is 
what  that  phrase  “ all  things  to  all  men  ” really  means,  “ that 
I might  by  all  means  save,"  and  only  as  shall  help  me  to  gain 
and  save. 

The  object  limits  the  method  ; the  continued  identity  of 


IO 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


the  end  limits  the  play  of  variety  in  the  use  of  means.  The 
great  iron  bridge  over  the  Firth  of  Forth  near  Edinburgh, 
the  mightiest  bridge  in  the  world,  is  allowed  to  slide  seven 
feet  on  itself  to  allow  for  contraction  and  expansion.  If  it 
were  rigid  it  would  crush  itself  under  the  summer  sun  or 
pull  itself  asunder  in  the  winter  frost.  As  free  as  the  swing 
of  the  tree-bough  is  the  seven-foot  slide  upon  itself  of  that 
enormous  mass  of  iron  ; but  it  must  be  all  along  one  line 
and  groove,  not  by  the  fraction  of  an  inch  outside  of  that. 
So  of  the  free  slide  of  Christian  adaptation  to  environ- 
ment. The  majestic  and  intense  idea  of  gaining  the  soul 
determines  the  limits  of  variation  in  the  way  of  approaching 
the  soul.  But  we  go  further.  The  exact  point  is  here.  These 
fine  adaptations  of  method  are  the  spontaneous  products  of 
devotion  to  such  an  end  as  this ; for  the  end  is  not  to  gain 
converts  but  to  gain  men,  to  recreate  the  true  glory  of  the 
soul  by  bringing  Christ  into  men  and  informing  them  with 
his  lovely  and  lofty  image. 

Now,  an  end  like  this  is  so  enkindling  and  exalted,  so  on 
the  very  ridge  of  human  aspiration  and  power,  that  even  to 
conceive  it  gives  breadth  and  play  to  a man’s  faculty,  and 
wholly  to  seek  it  reacts  into  the  utmost  spring  and  readiness 
of  resource,  like  a climb  in  the  hills.  Realizing  such  an 
errand,  the  missionary  approaches  men  with  the  supreme 
ease  of  a fearless  friendliness,  and  a missionary  society  ar- 
ranges its  policy  with  a gentle  largeness  in  which  is  the  very 
genius  of  real  adaptation,  and  yet  without  a hint  of  surren- 
der of  principle. 

Missionary  measures  and  policies,  then,  are  not  compro- 
mises, inventions,  devices,  studies  in  attitude,  so  much  as 
they  are  the  natural  attitudes  of  the  real  wrestler,  the  real 
rescuer.  This  impulse  to  save  is  the  thing  in  Christianity  — 
the  heart  of  its  heart,  like  the  “inmost  purple  spirit  of  light,” 
to  use  Shelley’s  phrase  — and  this  when  felt  creates  adapta- 
tion as  the  target  attracts  the  shot.  Only  kindle  that  saving 
passion  in  a man,  admit  intellect  to  it,  and  he  cannot  help 
adapting  himself  to  the  circumstances  of  the  case.  The 


THE  GAINING  OK  MEN. 


I I 


tiling  to  pray  for  is  not  the  adaptation  but  the  fire.  Facility 
waits  on  fervor.  (Perhaps  a lack  of  this  fire  is  the  reason 
why  some  of  our  laborious  modern  “adaptations”  are  so 
ineffective.) 

And  the  Christian  philosophy  which  underlies  all  this  is 
that  simple  yet  noble  philosophy  to  which  now  the  minds 
of  Christian  people  in  many  lands  are  turning.  Christianity 
is  a life,  a personal  and  divine  life,  reproduced  in  a human 
life ; an  incarnation  — first,  of  God  in  Christ,  and  then  of 
Christ  in  believing  man. 

Now  this  life  of  God,  reproduced  through  Christ  in  man, 
is  reproduced  in  man,  i.e.,  it  stands  related  to  what  is  generic 
and  universal  in  human  nature  and  in  man  ; and  our  meth- 
ods become  at  once  easily  varied  and  free  when  we  seek  the 
generic  and  universal.  The  life  of  God  in  the  soul  of  man 
is  beneath  subsidiary  forms  of  statement  on  the  side  of  the 
message  and  of  manners  on  the  side  of  the  man.  What  is 
merely  relative,  provisional,  fugitive,  in  either  direction,  in 
the  dialect  of  the  message  or  the  manners  of  the  man,  the 
missionary  knows  himself  free  to  deal  with  as  circumstances 
require,  else  we  could  not  even  translate  the  Scriptures. 
But  the  heart  of  the  message  must  reach  the  heart  of  the 
man.  These  remain  the  same.  The  missionary  stands,  then, 
for  the  identity  and  brotherhood  of  man  everywhere  and  for 
the  identity  of  the  gospel  everywhere.  Here  is  the  philo- 
sophical ground  for  the  magnificent  and  unique  combination 
of  facility  and  fidelity  which  we  observe  in  the  best  missionary 
service  — a feature  which  is  always  lost  in  the  mere  propa- 
ganda. Loyalty  to  the  Christian  faith  is  never  sacrificed. 
It  was  this  very  Paul  who  said  he  made  himself  “ all  things 
to  all  men  ” who  also  said  “ God  hath  made  of  one  blood  all 
nations  of  men,”  and  who  also  said,  “ Though  we  or  an  angel 
from  heaven  preach  any  other  doctrine,  let  him  be  anath- 
ema.” Paul’s  doctrine  of  adaptation  must  be  interpreted  by 
Paul’s  own  practice  ; and  as  to  that  practice,  there  was  more 
of  constancy  in  it  than  of  change.  Never  for  a moment  did 
that  swift  and  martial  life  lose  its  battle-rush,  under  any  cau- 


12 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


tion  or  concession  of  diplomacy.  Always  outspoken,  firm, 
and  valiant,  he  suppressed  nothing  of  the  main  truth  of  his 
message  to  avoid  danger  or  conflict.  The  real  message  must 
reach  the  real  man,  and  no  “adaptation”  is  admissible  which 
for  a moment  dulls  or  delays  this  vivid  and  vital  contact. 

Such,  in  rough  statement,  I understand  to  be  Saint  Paul’s 
principle  of  adaptation  — what  we  may  call  the  Christian 
law  of  adaptation  in  connection  with  missions.  It  is  an 
adaptation  which  is  both  subordinate  to  a spiritual  end  and 
is  itself  the  spontaneous  product  of  aroused  fidelity  to  that 
end. 

Now,  before  seeking,  in  the  closing  paragraphs,  to  apply 
this  principle  to  the  question  of  the  great  and  novel  forces 
which  are  reshaping  the  conditions  of  missionary  work  in 
our  day,  I venture  to  burden  your  patience  for  a moment  by 
way  of  showing  how  brilliantly  the  history  of  missions  con- 
firms the  view  here  presented  — that  the  broadest  variety 
and  facility  in  method  spring  from  the  intense  evangelical 
earnestness  of  the  underlying  motive.  When  the  true  spir- 
itual end  of  gaining  men  for  Christ  has  been  lost  sight  of 
in  the  zeal  of  the  propagandist  or  the  partisan,  then  methods 
have  become  cumbrous  and  artificial.  But  the  true  mis- 
sions, from  the  time  of  Saint  Paul  to  the  present,  have  been 
full  of  a certain  supremacy  of  essentials,  a cheerful  ardor,  a 
vivid  and  happy  sense  of-  Christ  and  his  good  news  for  men, 
a central  glow  so  gracious  and  humane  that  awkwardness  and 
stiffness  of  address  and  policy  became  impossible. 

You  know  how  it  was  at  the  very  beginning.  Other 
hands  caught  Saint  Paul’s  falling  torch  and  carried  it  far  and 
wide,  for  the  true  “apostolic  succession  ” was  the  missionary 
succession.  The  nimble  and  winged  Greek  tongue  received 
the  most  precious  treasure  ever  committed  to  a language  — 
the  story  of  the  cross. 

Scattered  by  winds  of  persecution,  which,  as  we  are 
accustomed  to  say,  both  winnowed  the  wheat  and  sowed  it 
through  the  earth,  Christians  went  everywhere,  and  the 
name  “Christian”  became  synonymous  with  “missionary.” 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


13 


Then  ensued  that  wonderful  dissemination  of  the  gospel, 
never  paralleled  in  the  history  of  religions.  We  see  that 
missionary  torch,  Paul’s  old  torch,  flying  along  the  great 
Roman  roads,  in  the  wake  of  armies,  on  the  margin  of  car- 
avans ; soldiers  and  sailors  pass  it  from  hand  to  hand.  Across 
the  African  desert,  up  the  windings  of  the  Nile,  out  along 
the  Red  Sea  to  Yemen  and  India,  across  Mesopotamia  to 
Persia,  north  into  the  vast  forests  of  Dacia,  over  the  snowy 
redoubt  of  the  Alps  into  Gaul,  and  beyond  Gaul,  even,  to 
where  the  misty  islands  of  Britain  fronted  the  prophetic 
pulsing  of  the  western  sea  — everywhere  in  those  early 
centuries  went  the  missionary  messenger  of  the  cross,  and 
everywhere  in  his  track  we  find  a certain  bright  charm  of 
manner  and  address  which  is  the  spontaneous  product  of  his 
living  sense  of  his  wonderful  message. 

Irenaeus,  writing  from  the  upper  Rhone  in  the  second 
century,  says  : “Though  the  languages  of  the  world  are  dis- 
similar, yet  the  import  of  the  tradition  in  them  all  is  one 
and  the  same.”  “The  haunts  of  the  Britons,”  writes  Ter- 
tullian  in  the  third  century,  “ inaccessible  to  the  Roman 
arms,  are  accessible  to  Christ.”  The  spirit  of  Pentecost, 
vital  yet  varied,  like  mingled  wind  and  fire,  inspired  believ- 
ers and  ran  throughout  the  world,  catching  every  man’s  ver- 
nacular, swiftly  meeting  every  local  condition,  everywhere 
apparently  provincial  because  everywhere  so  deeply  cosmo- 
politan, mobile  and  facile  because  human  and  divine,  until 
by  the  opening  of  the  fourth  century  ten  millions  of  Chris- 
tians were  numbered  in  the  Roman  Empire  in  place  of  the 
barely  half  million  at  the  close  of  the  first  century. 

In  each  of  the  three  following  centuries,  the  fourth,  fifth, 
and  sixth,  one  missionary'  achievement  of  the  first  class  car- 
ries on  the  same  deep  lesson  — that  felicity  in  the  handling 
of  missions  is  the  fruit  of  spiritual  earnestness.  These  three 
superb  achievements  were  the  mission  of  Ulfilas  to  the  Goths, 
in  the  fourth  century ; that  of  Patrick  to  Ireland  in  the  fifth 
century ; that  of  Columba  to  Scotland,  in  the  sixth  century. 

There  is  no  time  to  speak  of  them  in  detail.  As  varied 


14 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


as  the  peoples  addressed,  free  and  natural  yet  amazingly 
effective  in  method,  were  these  missions,  in  which  the  facile 
adaptation  plainly  grew  out  of  the  spirit  of  Christlike  love 
for  man  which  possessed  these  three  great  missionaries. 
This  appears  in  the  letters  of  Patrick,  the  missionary  to 
Ireland.  He  was  a heroic  and  fascinating  personality.  Born 
in  Brittany,  he  was  in  his  youth  captured  by  pirates  and  car- 
ried to  Ireland  and  used  as  a slave,  finally  escaping,  then 
returning  voluntarily  under  the  irresistible  desire  to  preach 
Christ  among  the  rude  barbarians  whom  he  had  known  as 
a bondman. 

“ My  friends  tried  to  prevent  me,”  he  writes,  “ saying,  ‘ Why 
does  this  man  rush  into  danger  among  the  heathen  ? ’ . . 
But  God  conquered  in  me  and  I withstood  them,  and  I went 
to  preach  the  gospel  to  the  people  of  Ireland,  where  I am 
ready  to  give  up  my  life  with  joy  for  Christ’s  name’s  sake.” 
He  established  perhaps  three  hundred  churches  aud  kindled 
a light  that  illumined  all  Western  Europe  for  three  hundred 
years,  giving  to  Ireland  its  title  of  Insula  Sanctorum , and 
he  accomplished  this  by  what  we  should  call  a marvelous 
skill  in  adaptation.  He  entered  the  cabins  of  the  common 
people,  adopted  their  manner  of  life,  met  their  prejudices, 
winning  all  by  a certain  gentleness  and  even  gayety,  hitting 
to  a nicety  the  nerve  of  the  Celtic  race,  and  yet  moved  by 
such  an  ardor  that  he  says,  “ In  one  day  I offered  a hundred 
prayers  and  in  the  night  almost  as  many,  and  in  the  moun- 
tains I rose  up  to  pray  in  the  snow,  ice,  and  rain  before  day- 
break, yet  I felt  no  pain,  for  the  spirit  glowed  within  me.” 

Then,  in  the  century  still  following,  we  have  the  intel- 
lectual mission  of  Columba,  perhaps  the  most  marvelous  of 
the  three.  He  was  an  Irishman  of  the  noble  blood  of  Ulster. 
In  the  spirit  of  penance  for  his  own  fiery  temper  he  came 
from  Ireland  with  twelve  followers,  and  in  563  A.D.  established 
a mission  to  the  Piets  on  the  wild  and  stormy  west  coast  of 
Scotland.  The  little  islet  of  Iona,  where  Columba  set  up 
his  school,  became  the  Scottish  Patmos,  and  its  beautiful 
cross,  the  “cross  of  Iona,”  became  the  immortal  Christian 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


■5 


blossom  on  that  rough  coast,  telling  to  this  clay  the  story  of 
that  wonderful  mission  — a mission  heroic,  intellectual,  evan- 
gelical— training  students,  translating  the  Scriptures,  send- 
ing out  missionaries  all  over  Western  Europe,  maintaining 
a free  and  spiritual  conception  of  Christianity,  and  even 
holding  out  against  the  authority  of  the  Vatican  for  two 
hundred  years. 

Now,  the  thing  that  shines  out  in  connection  with  each 
of  these  three  astonishing  missions,  different  entirely  as  they 
are  in  time  and  type,  is  the  very  thing  we  are  speaking  of 
tonight  — an  extraordinary  breadth  and  freedom  of  adaptation 
of  method  to  environment  combined  with  equally  marked 
parity  and  earnestness  of  evangelical  spirit.  The  inference 
is  demonstrative  that  this  spirit  itself,  the  spiritual  enthu- 
siasm to  save  in  Christ’s  name,  produced  the  bold  and  easy 
play  of  agency  and  method,  the  winning  felicities  of  man- 
ner, the  subtle  appositeness  in  meeting  circumstances  and 
addressing  men. 

Then,  later  on,  we  have  in  a sadder  story  the  same  truth 
illustrated  conversely.  There  arose  the  strange  menace  of 
the  crescent  in  the  east  ; the  Saracen  captured  the  Holy 
Sepulcher,  the  Moor  came  to  Spain,  and  Europe  passed 
into  the  din  and  clang  of  those  iron  centuries  of  the  Cru- 
sades. Missionary  activity  did  not  cease,  but  it  lost  its 
spiritual  tone,  and  also,  in  the  same  ratio,  its  felicity  of 
method.  We  look  in  vain  for  the  humane  sympathy  of  Pat- 
rick or  the  intellectual  freedom  of  Columba.  Missions  be- 
came politico-ecclesiastical.  Force  and  diplomacy  became 
the  substitutes  for  the  beautiful  charm  of  natural  adaptation, 
and  accordingly  missions  relatively  failed. 

But  the  meridian  of  history  changed  in  Europe.  God 
shifted  in  a night  the  hinges  of  his  doors.  The  great 
focus  and  pivot  of  affairs  was  transferred  from  the  eastern 
rim  of  Europe  to  the  western.  In  1492,  Boabdil,  the  last  of 
the  Moorish  monarchs,  fled  from  Spain,  and  the  cross  shone 
in  the  halls  of  the  Alhambra.  In  that  same  year  the  finger 
of  God’s  providence  made  of  the  deep  a furrow,  and  pointed 


i6 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


the  path  before  three  little  boats  in  which  Columbus  set 
forth  upon  the  mighty  voyage  whose  issue  after  four  hun- 
dred years  this  nation  celebrates  in  its  Columbian  Festival. 
Twenty-five  years  later  Martin  Luther  nailed  his  theses  to 
the  church  door  in  Wittenberg,  and  the  tremendous  six- 
teenth century  came  marching  in  like  an  army  with  ban- 
ners. In  the  south,  the  classic  Rennaisance ; in  the  north, 
the  German  Reformation  ; in  the  west,  the  Titanic  burst 
of  the  Elizabethan  era,  and  as  the  result  of  all  a new  vol- 
ume opened  for  the  world  and  for  Christ ! Christianity  dis- 
covered that  the  world  was  round,,  and  for  the  first  time 
wholly  took  its  problem  up  into  its  hands.  Still,  missionary 
activity,  while  often  laborious  and  heroic,  was  ecclesiastical 
rather  than  evangelical  in  its  notion  of  the  end  to  be  at- 
tained. Its  methods  accordingly  were  still  artificial,  and  the 
results  in  the  way  of  permanent  spiritual  conquest  were 
largely  barren.  The  Latin  Church  at  this  period  sent  out 
whole  regiments  of  missionaries  — many  of  them  most  de- 
voted men  — to  India  and  Japan  and  to  the  new  lands,  to 
South  America,  Mexico,  and  the  Indian  tribes  of  the  far 
north,  when  men  like  Brebeuf,  Rend  Menard,  and  Marquette 
endured  incredible  hardship.  These  Roman  Catholic  brethren, 
also,  are  of  the  noble  army  of  martyrs.  Japan  was  claimed 
to  be  “Christianized.”  In  India  Xavier  baptized  alleged 
converts  till  his  arms  sank  exhausted  in  the  act  of  baptizing. 
But  these,  also,  were  not  altogether  spiritual  conquests.  The 
spirit  that  governed  them  was  not  always  a passion  to  save 
men  from  sin  in  Christ’s  name.  It  was  often  a passion  to 
multiply  adherents  to  a church  — the  spirit  of  the  propaganda. 
And  accordingly  this  degeneration  of  end  produced  a degen- 
eration of  means.  These  agents  of  the  propaganda  “adapted  ” 
too  much.  Legitimate  concession  becomes  illegitimate  sur- 
render, and  these  Latin  missions  of  the  sixteenth  century  to 
a large  extent  failed  and  fell,  ending  in  Japan  in  frightful 
tragedy;  in  Mexico,  and  some  of  the  South  American  States, 
sinking  in  the  swamps  of  native  vices;  in  India  — under 
Robert  de  Nobili  — conceding  so  much  to  Brahminic  caste 
as  to  become  “ more  Brahminic  than  Christian.” 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


>7 


But  a new  spirit  arose.  Early  in  the  eighteenth  century 
the  little  Moravian  Church  at  Herrnhut  resolved  itself  into 
a missionary  “committee  of  the  whole.”  The  political  and 
ecclesiastical  conception  of  the  mission  gives  way  before  the 
return  of  the  apostolic  and  spiritual.  The  true  unit  of  mission- 
ary enterprise  becomes  again  the  saving  of  a man  in  Christ. 

In  1789  William  Carey  landed  in  India,  and  the  modern 
Protestant  mission  was  born.  And  since  that  epoch  this 
last  one  hundred  years  of  Protestant  missions  is  one  long, 
splendid  demonstration  of  the  same  Pauline  maxim  that  facil- 
ity and  efficiency  of  adaptation  to  environment  is  the  natural 
fruit  of  the  Christian  passion  to  save. 

What  magnificent  expositions  of  this  principle  have  been 
seen  in  the  history  of  this  American  Board.  The  most  noble 
and  daring  of  them  all  is,  perhaps,  the  translation  of  the 
Scriptures  into  the  vernacular  of  hundreds  of  peoples ; for 
what  is  this  but  the  broadest  and  most  fearless  “ adaptation 
to  environment,”  yet  without  losing  a single  note  in  Paul’s 
old  cry,  “That  I might  gain,”  “That  I might  save.” 

No  words  can  do  justice  to  the  magnificent  splendor  of 
this  achievement  of  translation  and  to  its  significant  bear- 
ing upon  the  point  before  us  tonight.  For  it  might  easily 
be  said  and  plausibly  argued  that  we  should  lose  what  is 
characteristic  in  Christianity  in  committing  its  delicate  and 
spiritual  message  to  the  meager  and  coarse  syllables  of  a 
savage  tongue ; that  translation,  even,  is  adaptation  carried  too 
far.  For  languages  reproduce  psychologies.  The  wide  gulfs 
that  separate  whole  races  run  up  between  their  linguistic 
forms,  and  one  might  maintain  that  the  very  essence  of  a 
given  idea  is  bound  up  in  a given  language  and  confined 
to  that  language. 

The  French  “ Dieu  ” is  not  quite  the  Saxon  “God.”  It 
has  been  a question  with  our  missionaries  what  Chinese  word 
to  choose  out  of  nine  possible  combinations  to  represent  the 
supreme  name.  Can  the  sublime  Jehovah  of  the  Hebrew 
writings,  it  might  be  asked,  be  made  known  in  Malay,  and 
the  finished  Christ  of  the  Greek  Testament  be  reproduced 


i8 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


in  Choctaw  ? And  what  words  has  the  Zulu  of  South  Africa 
into  which  the  mighty  logic  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans 
can  be  hammered  ? 

Never  mind,  has  been  the  reply  of  this  American  Board,  as 
of  all  the  great  Protestant  societies.  The  gospel  is  as  univer- 
sal as  man.  So  widely  humane  is  it,  so  intimately  vital  to 
all  men,  that  even  the  variations  of  a hundred  dialects  are 
subordinate  after  all.  We  dare  to  fling  this  gospel  out  to 
the  winds  of  any  century,  out  to  the  native  handling  of  any 
people.  Christianity  can  stand  universal  translation.  It 
can  be  preached  in  every  man’s  vernacular.  It  is  doubtful 
whether  the  iron  fatalism  of  the  Moslem  literature  can  be 
reproduced  in  the  free  energy  of  Saxon.  It  is  more  than 
doubtful  whether  the  mystic  subtlety  of  Buddhism  can  be 
put  into  the  finished  and  brilliant  precision  of  the  French. 
But  Christianity  may  be  preached  in  Arabic  or  Hindi  as  well 
as  in  French  or  English.  What  ampler  or  bolder  testimony 
is  possible  to  the  principle  under  discussion,  that  the  philoso- 
phy of  Christianity  unites  consistent  adherence  to  the  cen- 
tral idea  with  infinite  adaptation  of  form  to  environment  ? 

Surely  the  deep  logic  of  the  past  history  of  the  Ameri- 
can Board  tends  toward  a noble  and  yet  safe  liberality  in 
meeting  the  fresh  environment  of  new  times. 

In  the  same  line  of  illustration,  also,  is  the  immense 
confidence  with  which  the  American  Board  has  in  these 
later  decades  more  and  more  intrusted  the  gospel  to  native 
pastors,  managing  their  own  native  churches.  Does  it  not 
seem  as  though  the  seal  of  God’s  approval  has  been  put 
upon  this  idea  of  intrusting  the  gospel  to  the  native  hand- 
ling of  the  nations?  It  is  not  necessary  to  denationalize  a 
people  in  order  to  Christianize  them.  At  first  the  theory 
was  different.  The  American  Board  in  an  early  Annual 
Report,  for  the  year  1 8 1 6,  I think,  declared  the  object  of 
the  mission  among  the  Indians  to  be  “to  make  them 
English  in  their  language ,'  civilized  in  their  habits,  and 
Christian  in  their  religion.” 


1 The  italics  are  ours. 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


!9 


Now,  on  the  contrary,  this  Board  says  to  the  children  of 
Japan:  Remain  Japanese  if  you  will,  but  be  Christian.  You 
do  not  require  to  come  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven  via  the 
English  language  alone,  or  via  the  local  idiosyncrasies  of 
Western  civilization.  You  can  be  your  own  Oriental  selves 
and  yet  be  evangelical  Christians.  You  can  realize  your  best 
national  ideals  and  yet  be  Christian.  The  missionary  is  no 
foe  to  local  patriotism. 

Finally,  then,  may  we  not  bring  this  Pauline  principle  — 
that  the  finest  and  broadest  adaptation  to  environment  in 
the  conduct  of  missions  has  its  true  source  in  the  loving 
earnestness  to  gain  men  in  Christ  — into  the  great  and  thrill- 
ing arena  of  the  present  hour,  and  ask  how  it  applies  to  mis- 
sionary enterprise  now,  in  the  midst  of  our  novel  and  exciting 
conditions  of  life,  and  especially  in  view  of  four  special  forces 
of  our  epoch,  which  are,  perhaps  as  prominent  and  positive 
as  any. 

For  the  critical  and  urgent  question  which  confronts  us 
and  crowds  upon  us,  is  really  this  : Can  our  missionary  work 
adapt  itself,  ivithout  loss,  to  this  modern  environment,  and,  if 
so,  how,  and  how  far  ? 

Beneath  our  special  discussions  is  this  real  question  of 
readjustment  at  various  points  to  what  we  call  the  “ spirit 
of  our  time.”  What  readjustments,  if  any,  are  appropriate, 
for  example,  in  view  of  the  spirit  of  critical  inquiry  as  to 
matters  of  doctrine  ? What  readjustments,  if  any,  does  the 
democratic  and  socially  representative  spirit  of  our  age  call 
for  ? These  are  specimens  of  questions  where  the  light  glit- 
ters on  the  weapon’s  edge  in  current  debate.  My  office  is 
surely  not  to  enlarge  upon  these  special  questions,  but  to 
voice  your  deeper  and  common  feeling  in  referring  them  all 
to  a still  more  commanding  principle,  the  law,  as  we  have 
tried  to  trace  it,  of  all  adjustment  to  environment  in  mission- 
ary enterprise ; that  we  are  first  to  gain  a certain  fresh  sense 
of  our  holy  and  thrilling  missionary  errand  before  we  are  fitly 
prepared  even  to  enter  upon  these  questions  of  adjustment, 
and  that  when  we  are  once  fairly  possessed  with  our  errand 


20 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


in  Paul’s  way  and  in  Christ’s  name,  the  “adjustments  ” will 
already  have  half  accomplished  themselves. 

It  is  along  the  line  of  Saint  Paul’s  thrilling,  sixfold  cry, 
“That  I might  gain,”  “ That  I might  gain”  that  we  shall  best 
approach  the  immediate  questions  of  the  present  hour. 

One  can  scarcely  go  amiss  in  selecting  these  four  among 
the  chief  new  forces  of  our  time  : 

First.  The  spirit  of  free  rational  inquiry  and  criticism. 

Second.  The  spirit  of  industrial  enterprise  by  the  aid  of 
applied  science. 

Third.  The  spirit  of  representative  government  under 
forms  of  a social  democracy. 

Fourth.  The  spirit  of  humanitarian  relief  and  reform. 

These  rapidly  closing  moments  will  permit  only  the  brief- 
est glance  upon  these  four  tendencies,  but  we  must  hold  that 
to  them,  also,  our  principle  applies.  They  are  all  within  the 
compass  of  legitimate  missionary  use  and  adaptation,  but 
such  a vast  adaptation  can  only  be  accomplished  through  the 
channel  of  a profoundly  quickened  and  deepened  earnestness 
in  the  work  of  missions  itself. 

I.  As  to  the  intellectual  and  critical  movement  of  the 
age,  the  attitude  of  the  missionary  spirit  may  be,  on  the  one 
hand,  absolutely  fearless  and  friendly,  while  on  the  other 
hand  it  holds  this  intellectual  movement  in  clear  subordina- 
tion to  its  own  still  larger  spiritual  end.  For  the  intellect 
is  a part,  but  only  a part,  of  the  spirit.  In  the  great  Oriental 
mission  fields  scientific  agnosticism  is  powerfully  affecting 
the  native  thought,  while  here  at  home  the  new  Biblical  criti- 
cism has  brought  upon  all  classes  of  religious  societies  per- 
haps their  sharpest  strain  of  difference  and  debate ; and  how 
to  adjust  the  operations  of  a missionary  society  to  this  crit- 
ical tendency  is  plainly  a task  of  great  delicacy  and  difficulty. 

But  the  voice  of  our  argument  at  this  point  is  perfectly 
clear,  and  in  it  there  is  both  a liberal  and  a conservative  note. 
On  the  one  hand,  and  so  far  as  the  movement  of  the  time  is 
truly  intellectual,  the  missionary  sympathizes  with  it.  He 
should  meet  the  intellectual  unbeliever  with  a finer  intellec- 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


2 I 

tualism  even  than  his  own,  and  if  he  is  dead  earnest,  and  live 
earnest  too,  to  gain  the  whole  soul  to  Christ,  he  will  incorpo- 
rate in  his  work  this  finer  intellectualism. 

Let  us  never  forget  that  Christianity  is  intellectual. 
Never  a school  without  a chapel,  but  never  a chapel  without 
a school.  Christianity  is,  let  us  repeat,  a life,  and  a part  of 
that  life  is  thought,  and  there  cannot  be  any  real  thought 
unless  it  is  free  thought.  We  sometimes  say  "free  intelli- 
gence.” Intelligence  is  not  intelligence  unless  it  is  free.  In 
our  time  a religion  must  take  thought  on  board  or  fail. 
Christianity  is  the  only  religion  that  dares  to  take  thought 
in  its  integrity  on  board.  Protestantism  is  the  free  and  spir- 
itual union  of  unfettered  intelligence  and  fervent  faith,  with- 
out detriment  to  either.  It  is  not  the  invention  of  the  six- 
teenth century.  It  was  born  in  the  first  birth  of  the  rational 
soul,  and  it  shone  in  the  finished  intuition  of  Jesus  and  in 
his  boldly  doing  away  with  the  letter  of  the  ancient  code 
while  he  fulfilled  its  spirit. 

The  Protestant  missionary,  then,  in  meeting  the  free 
thought  of  the  age,  simply  meets  outside  of  himself  that 
which  is  an  integral  factor  within  himself.  He  is  to  be  at 
home  beneath  the  illumined  dome  of  the  twentieth  century, 
because  he  is  himself  a part  of  that  illumination. 

So  much,  then,  is  admitted  and  gladly  urged,  that  our 
missions  have  no  quarrel  with  the  spirit  of  rational  criticism 
if  only  it  be  genuinely  rational,  that  is,  unprejudiced  and 
devoted  to  truth.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  missionary 
spirit  insists  that  all  speculation,  with  which  in  itself  it  has 
no  quarrel,  shall  yet  be  subordinate  to  the  practical  errand 
of  saving  men. 

The  missionary  has  little  leisure  to  examine  the  mere 
nebulae  in  the  theological  skies.  He  leaves  that  to  his 
brother  at  home  in  the  seminary.  Somebody  should  count 
threads,  but  not  the  man  who  is  running  with  the  life-line. 
The  missionary  is  the  ordinary  minister,  minus  a little  spec- 
ulation and  plus  a little  urgency.  He  has  his  freedom  of 
thought  certainly,  but  he  is  engaged  in  the  imminent  wrestle 


22 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


to  rescue  a man  or  a nation  from  moral  death,  and  he  wishes 
to  think  to  some  practical  purpose.  The  possibilities  of  the 
unrevealed  future,  for  example,  engross  his  attention  as  little 
as  does  the  weather  of  tomorrow  the  attention  of  a fireman 
who  dashes  into  a burning  house  to  save  a child.  The  text 
would  teach  us,  I feel  sure,  that  the  main  missionary  motive 
is  not  drawn  from  any  speculation  whatever  as  to  the  future. 
That  motive  is  drawn  from  Christ  and  from  the  preciousness 
of  man  and  the  possibility  of  saving  him  now  by  bringing  the 
image  of  Christ’s  manhood  into  him.  Here  is  the  glowing 
heart  of  the  Pauline  idea  — to  save  a man  now,  from  his  sins, 
in  Christ ; to  rescue  a nation  now , from  its  degradation,  in 
Christ.  This  is  the  commanding  and  flaming  conception. 
The  eschatological  forecast,  prominent  as  it  should  be,  is 
not  the  most  prominent  factor  in  the  consciousness  of  the 
missionary. 

The  missionary  spirit  insists  on  the  perspective  of  im- 
mediate service,  and  in  the  instant  blaze  of  this  great  fore- 
ground certain  horizon  questions  lose  relative  importance. 
And  for  the  very  same  reason  the  missionary  spirit  con- 
demns, not  severely,  some  hesitancy  of  attitude  upon  these 
horizon  questions.  It  is  gently  tolerant  of  marginal  mis- 
givings so  long  as  they  do  not  intrude  upon  this  peremptory 
perspective  of  immediate  service,  but  not  tolerant  of  them 
when  they  do  thus  intrude. 

For  we  are  like  men  “ lying  awake  in  the  dark  ” and  lis- 
tening, to  use  Bishop  Leighton’s  beautiful  image,  in  regard 
to  many  of  these  questions  of  the  future  life.  Our  minds 
fail  us.  We  cannot  straighten  out  everything.  You  remem- 
ber William  Whewell’s  quaint  line 

“There  is  no  force,  however  great, 

Can  stretch  a cord,  however  fine, 

Into  a horizontal  line 

That  shall  be  accurately  straight.” 

And  surely,  dear  brethren,  in  view  of  our  urgent  text, 
may  we  not  say  this : It  is  not  so  much  whether  a man’s  con- 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


23 


jecture  inclines  this  way  or  that  way  upon  some  secondary 
point  concerning  which  little  is  said  in  the  Scripture,  as 
whether  the  man  holds  cither  opinion , whether  pro  or  con, 
as  of  little  moment  compared  with  the  tremendous  mid-rush 
of  Christian  motive  to  win  men  now  and  conquer  the  nations 
for  Christ  before  the  firing  of  the  sunset  gun,  which  shall 
determine  the  fitness  of  a man  to  be  Christ’s  missionary. 

II.  As  to  the  movement  of  what  we  call  the  indus- 
trial enterprise  of  our  time  by  the  aid  of  applied  science. 
The  missionary  sustains  a similar  attitude  of  glad  welcome 
and  acceptance  of  these  novel  and  brilliant  energies  as  allies 
to  the  spread  of  the  gospel,  but  only  so  far  as  they  are  kept 
subordinate  to  the  end  of  the  spiritual  rescue  of  men. 

As  to  physical  science  itself,  if  genuine,  it  must  be  an 
ally  not  an  enemy  to  a religion  whose  gracious  hammock  is 
swung  between  the  two  towers  of  the  incarnation  and  the 
resurrection.  At  these  two  critical  points  of  doctrine,  where 
honor  to  physical  nature  blends  with  faith  in  God,  the  com- 
in\  age  is  to  reveal,  I believe,  a profound  community  of 
grou^l  between  our  scientific  friends  and  ourselves ; and 
then,  too,  the  instruments  which  science  has  given  to  enter- 
prise— the  engine,  the  press,  the  telephone,  in  whose  mys- 
terious echoes  speech  repeats  itself  a thousand  miles  away 
— all  these  spreading  in  the  wake  of  commerce  over  the 
world  not  only  break  up  the  stubborn  masses  of  heathen 
custom  but  add  agencies  of  incalculable  power, to  the  service 
of  the  gospel  itself. 

Business  sagacity  also,  executive  skill,  inventive  genius, 
the  alert,  combining,  creative  mind,  are  both  welcomed  and 
developed  in  the  missionary  arena,  but  all  “that  we  may 
gain”  men.  Missionary  enthusiasm  may  “adapt”  itself  to  a 
business  age,  and,  brethren,  suffer  me  to  say  that  the  best 
adaptation  to  a business  age  is  a great  advance  in  giving. 
We  hear  of  “ retrenchment.”  The  very  stones  of  the  mis- 
sions cry  against  this  enforced  retrenchment. 

Read  the  “ Cry  front  the  Missions ,”  the  most  terribly 
eloquent  document  ever  laid  before  our  anniversaries.  Let 


24 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


us  heed  that  cry.  “ Reducing  contributions  ” is  drawing 
missionary  blood. 

In  reference  to  one  great  field  of  missionary  effort, 
hitherto  the  most  impenetrable,  perhaps,  and  obdurate  of 
all  — the  field  of  the  Moslem  — might  we  not  hazard  the 
conjecture  that  perhaps  the  application  of  science  to  enter- 
prise— or,  in  a word,  machinery  — is  destined  to  be  the  most 
effective  possible  ally  to  the  Christian  faith,  for  machinery  is 
the  embodied  victory  of  mind  over  matter,  or,  to  put  it  in 
another  way,  of  will  over  fate,  and  Mohammedanism  is  fatal- 
ism. Machinery  is  the  natural  antithesis  of  Mohammedanism. 

Mr.  Edward  Sell,  writing  in  the  last  August  Contempo- 
rary of  the  “ New  Islam,”  approves  the  effort  of  certain 
younger  Moslem  scholars  to  bring  Islam  into  accord  with 
the  progressive  tendencies  of  the  times.  The  attempt  will 
be  futile.  When  some  years  ago  in  Cairo  I visited  the  great 
Mosque  of  El-Lazar,  where  thousands  of  Arab  students  are 
taught  the  Koran,  and  saw  these  boys  and  youth  seated  in 
little  groups  on  the  broad  floor  of  the  Mosque,  each  one 
swinging  his  body  backward  and  forward  as  he  again  and 
again  rehearsed  the  passage  in  a vacant  and  mindless  recita- 
tive, I said  : This  is  not  a religion  ; it  is  a mental  despotism, 
almost  a monomania.  It  is  the  paralysis  of  a fatalistic  creed, 
as  if  physically  forced  upon  the  very  fiber  and  function  of 
the  brain.  “ Fixed,  from  the  very  outset,”  says  Dr.  Kuenen, 
“this  is  the  character  of  Islam.” 

Now,  machinery  in  an  instant  shatters  this  rigid  code, 
for  progress  begins  with  a blow  struck  back  at  fate,  and 
machinery  is  the  triumph  of  such  a blow. 

But  a higher  and  still  more  apposite  instance  is  at  hand 
of  this  legitimate  adaptation  of  modern  missions  to  the 
scientific  environment,  where  the  adaptation  is  plainly  the 
product  (as  it  is  my  main  purpose  tonight  to  argue)  — the 
product  of  the  great  Christian  thought  of  rescue.  We  find 
this  instance  under  the  flag  of  our  own  Board  in  the  figure 
of  the  missionary  physician  — for  the  crown  and  bloom  of 
modern  applied  science  is  in  the  field  of  medicine ; and  one 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


25 


of  the  peculiar  glories  of  modern  Protestant  missions,  and  of 
this  American  Board,  is  the  educated  missionary  physician. 

Never  the  church  without  the  school,  we  have  said. 
Never  either  without  the  hospital.  “The  church  and  the 
hospital  must  come  together  to  the  Orient,”  said  Dr.  Post  to 
me  in  the  operating  room  of  the  great  and  noble  hospital 
at  Beirut. 

I love  to  think  of  the  missionary  physician,  and  for  what 
he  stands  today  — one  of  the  most  magnificent  products  of 
these  centuries.  On  the  scientific  side  he  in  his  profession 
of  medicine  occupies  that  wonderful  focal  point  whither  all 
the  bright  paths  of  modern  physics  and  scientific  discovery 
converge  — the  Square  of  Saint  Mark’s  in  the  Venice  of 
Science  — and  he  stands  there  in  Christ's  name.  Reading 
the  human  frame  beneath  this  searching  and  splendid  illumi- 
nation, knowing  its  laws  and  its  perils,  and  treating  its 
diseases  as  a way  of  Christian  approach  to  the  man  him- 
self, he  embodies  the  very  genius  of  the  scientific  age  in 
its  noblest  field  of  practical  operation,  while  yet  he  is  not 
in  the  least  thereby  chilled  in  his  errand  of  winning  men 
to  Christ ; on  the  contrary,  it  is  the  spirit  of  the  cross 
which  has  produced  him  and  placed  him  where  he  is.  Be- 
coming man’s  physician,  he  ceases  not  to  be  Christ’s  mis- 
sionary. Along  a channel  cleared,  not  clogged,  by  scientific 
enthusiasm,  pours  the  old  Christian  passion  to  “ save,”  and 
he  stands  forth  by  the  side  of  his  preaching  brother,  sharing 
with  him  in  the  one  royal  and  overmastering  ardor  to  “ pre- 
sent every  man  perfect  in  Christ  Jesus.” 

III.  Only  a word  can  be  said  upon  the  third  great 
new  force  of  our  time,  though  it  deserves  many. 

“ We  are  living  in  the  sociological  age  of  the  world,” 
writes  Dr.  Josiah  Strong  in  his  recent  and  most  stirring 
book,  The  New  Era.  Indeed,  the  question  now  is  not  one 
even  of  democracy  but  of  a new  democracy.  To  the  de- 
mocracy of  individualism,  with  which  we  are  familiar,  has 
succeeded  a subtle  and  powerful  rival  — the  democracy  of 


26 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


socialism  — and  around  this  distinction  rages  a cyclone  of 
discussion  and  dissension. 

The  agitation  of  these  theories  is  beginning  to  affect 
some  of  our  most  important  missionary  fields,  while  here  at 
home,  in  this  drift  towards  social  cooperation  and  represent- 
ative control,  we  come  upon  what  is  a living  question  for  us 
in  this  Board  — the  question  between  a corporate  nucleus 
and  an  outlying  popular  constituency. 

But  on  this  field,  also,  the  missionary  spirit  stands  with 
a discriminating  sympathy,  and  here,  as  everywhere,  the  guide 
to  the  true  adjustment  is  to  be  found  in  the  same  freshened 
sense  of  the  breadth  and  depth  and  holy  splendor  of  our  mis- 
sionary errand,  while  on  the  field  the  true  missionary  finds 
in  the  instant  wrestle  to  save  men  in  Christ  the  source  of 
the  true  social  enthusiasm.  The  true  missionary  will  never 
repeat  that  error  of  “too  much  politics”  which  characterized 
the  Latin  missions  of  the  sixteenth  century  in  India  and 
Japan.  He  does  not  meddle  with  the  civic  relations  of  gov- 
ernments to  their  subjects,  and  yet,  as  representing  the  fel- 
lowship of  Christ,  he  is  in  sympathy  with  the  people  and 
with  popular  liberty.  He  does  not  approve  that  “dropping 
down  deadness”  of  manner  which,  you  remember,  Sidney 
Smith  said  some  bishops  liked  in  their  clergy,  and  which 
despots  desire  in  their  subjects.  On  the  other  hand,  how- 
ever, he  stands  for  order  and  for  law,  for  good  manners  and 
social  refinement,  and  for  the  finished  results  of  accumulated 
resources  and  a stable  civilization.  His  sense  of  human 
brotherhood  in  Christ  attracts  him  to  what  is  true  in  the 
new  democratic  and  social  ideals,  while  at  the  same  time  his 
sense  of  the  separate  beauty  and  value  of  each  individual 
soul  guards  him  against  their  false  and  fantastic  extremes. 

Thus  the  missionary  becomes  a social  mediator  between 
extremes  of  opinion,  and  from  his  lonely  and  critical  and 
often  perilous  field  of  toil,  in  his  balance  of  judgment  and 
breadth  of  sympathy,  he  voices  this  final  maxim  of  the  nobler 
democracy,  “ Blessed  are  the  peacemakers,  for  they  shall  be 
called  the  children  of  God.”  May  it  not  even  be  true  that 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


27 


just  as  in  applied  science  and  in  machinery  we  find  the 
natural  ally  of  the  cross  against  the  crescent,  so  in  the  mod- 
ern spirit  of  popular  liberty  and  social  cooperation  we  are 
to  find  the  natural  ally  of  the  cross  against  caste,  which  is 
the  practical  fastness  of  the  ancient  superstitions  of  India. 
The  local  franchise  and  experiments  in  social  cooperation 
are  true  correlatives  of  that  blessed  gospel  before  which, 
thus  supported  and  recommended,  the  subtle  sorcery  of 
caste  must  dissolve  and  disappear. 

IV.  Last  of  all,  we  meet  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
movements  of  our  age  in  the  call  for  a larger  and  wider 
philanthropy.  Stirring  among  the  noble-hearted  sons  and 
daughters  of  our  times,  of  every  class  and  special  creed,  in 
England,  Sweden,  Germany,  America,  we  observe  the  spirit 
of  a new  philanthropy,  whose  specific  note  is  the  scientific 
analysis  of  social  conditions  as  the  prerequisite  to  a wise 
effort  to  relieve  them.  Within  a dozen  years  a new  litera- 
ture, almost,  has  arisen  in  order  to  expound  this  new  move- 
ment of  humanitarian  reform,  to  state  its  problems,  record 
its  experiments,  and  tabulate  its  results. 

But  surely  no  argument  is  needed  to  show  that  as  a 
Christian  missionary  realizes  the  breadth  and  beauty  of  his 
own  errand  and  enters  into  the  spirit  of  the  cross,  in  that 
proportion  he  comes  into  touch  with  this  philanthropic  move- 
ment, also,  in  its  very  finest  form  ; for  the  spirit  of  Christ  is 
not  that  of  a blind  self-sacrifice,  but  is  that  of  intelligent  as 
well  as  sacrificial  service  to  the  whole  man,  body  and  soul. 

The  true  genesis  of  philanthropy  in  its  connection  with 
religious  faith  is  well  given  in  the  words  of  Florence  Night- 
ingale : “ If  I could  give  you  any  information  of  my  life,” 
she  says,  “ it  would  be  to  show  how  a woman  of  very  ordi- 
nary ability  has  been  led  by  God,  in  strange  and  unaccus- 
tomed paths,  to  do , in  his  service , what  he  has  done  in  her." 
These  words  of  the  heroine  of  the  Crimea  sound  like  an 
echo  of  Saint  Paul,  where  he  says,  “To  reveal  his  Son  in 
me  that  I might  preach  him  among  the  Gentiles.” 

The  word  philanthropy,  then,  is  only  a Greek  name  for 


28 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


one  side  of  missionary  effort.  It  is  only  a milestone  on  the 
road  out  to  where  Saint  Paul,  that  strange  and  fiery  scholar, 
stands,  burning  with  a passion  of  rescue,  listening  at  night 
across  the  JEgean  to  the  cry  for  help  from  Macedon,  and 
exclaiming,  as  the  keynote  of  all  his  many-toned  ministry, 
“ That  I might  gain,”  “That  I might  by  all  means  save.” 
The  new  philanthropy  is  only  a part  of  that  splendid  and 
supreme  conception  of  saving  a man  to  Christ  and  in  Christ, 
which,  whether  on  the  old  Asian  shore  or  in  the  heat  and 
rush  of  today,  is  the  divine  glory  of  life. 

Riding  at  nightfall,  some  years'  ago,  through  the  long, 
dim  archway  that  leads  into  the  ruins  of  the  great  temple 
at  Baalbec,  an  old  Scotchman  of  our  party  missed  his  way 
and  struck  heavily  against  a projecting  beam  or  fragment  of 
rock.  He  was  thrown  from  his  horse,  and  lay  stunned  and 
bleeding.  No  adequate  medical  aid  was  at  hand.  We  did 
for  him  what  we  could,  and  after  he  had  recovered  con- 
sciousness we  bound  up  in  a rude  way  his  wounds,  which 
were  serious,  and  next  morning  we  placed  the  pale  and  suf- 
fering old  man  in  a palanquin  and  set  out  to  carry  him  over 
the  mountains  to  Beirut.  It  was  a weary  march.  As  we 
crossed  the  plain  and  came  under  the  foot-hills  of  the  Leb- 
anon Mountains  I saw  a horseman  far  above  us,  riding 
straight  toward  us  down  the  steep  mountain  side.  I thought 
at  first  he  must  be  a man  of  the  desert,  so  daringly  and  mag- 
nificently he  rode,  his  horse  leaping  down  from  point  to 
point  and  falling  upon  our  little  caravan  almost  like  a bolt 
out  of  the  heavens.  But  he  raised  his  cap  and  spoke  in 
English.  “I  hear  you  have  had  an  accident,”  said  he,  “for 
bad  news  travels  fast  across  the  plain.  I am  Dale,  of  Zahleh” 
— a name  now  starred  in  the  glorious  annals  of  American 
missionaries  and  of  the  Syrian  mission  — “and  I rode  down 
the  mountain  to  tell  you  to  bring  the  injured  gentleman 
straight  up  to  my  house  in  the  mission  at  Zahleh  on  the  hill. 
We  will  take  care  of  him,  and  have  a doctor  out  from  Beirut 
to  attend  him,  and  when  he  is  able  set  him  on  his  way.” 

I looked  at  the  speaker  and  thought  I was  in  sight  of 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


29 


something  higher  and  whiter  than  the  snow  summits  of  Leb- 
anon. Gerald  Dale,  of  Zahleh  ! I see  him  now  as  I saw  him 
then,  his  cap  off,  his  hair  tossed  back,  his  eye  flashing  with 
the  daring  of  his  precipitous  ride,  his  splendid  horse  all  in  a 
foam  — the  light  of  the  morning  flaming  across  the  fine, 
chiseled  face,  the  very  incarnation  of  Christian  chivalry  and 
philanthropy  — Christ’s  true  knight,  promptly  and  wisely  of- 
fering the  best  he  had  to  a suffering  stranger  in  manhood’s 
and  Christ’s  name. 

Brethren,  I have  spoken  too  long,  and  yet  not  long 
enough  unless  I have  been  able  to  throw  into  relief  this 
simple  idea  that  a Christian  mission  today  may  and  should 
adapt  itself  to  the  freshest  and  strongest  forces  of  the  times 
we  live  in,  but  that  the  missionary  spirit  itself,  a certain 
living  and  loving  earnestness  to  gain  men  in  Christ,  is  the 
true  source  of  breadth  and  felicity  of  method  in  accomplish- 
ing this  adaptation. 

We  are  in  the  whirl  of  a tremendous  epoch.  If  mission- 
ary enterprise  is  to  adapt  itself  to  this  epoch  it  must  be  not 
by  devices  and  compromises  and  subtleties  of  policy,  but  by 
the  deep  reenforcement  of  the  old  Pauline  ardor  to  save  men 
in  Christ.  Only  the  eternal  love  of  the  cross  can  produce 
the  true  genius  of  adaptation  in  winning  men — the  quick 
apprehension,  the  fine  responsiveness,  the  spontaneous  grace 
of  address,  and  in  policy  the  large  yet  safe  measures  of  true 
progress. 

As  to  these  four  great  features  in  the  life  of  our  time  — 
the  spirit  of  intellectual  freedom  and  rational  criticism,  the 
spirit  of  science  and  its  application  to  industrial  enterprise, 
the  spirit  of  a representative  and  social  democracy,  the  spirit 
of  humanitarian  reform  — I must  believe  that  our  Christian 
missions  may  meet  them  and,  in  a sense,  may  incorporate 
them  all. 

But,  O brethren,  what  a fervent  heat  at  the  center  is 
requisite  to  balance  the  dispersive  tendencies  of  such  broad 
adaptations  and  maintain  the  one  end  of  saving  men  in 
Christ  regnant  to  the  outermost  tip  and  filament  of  all 


3° 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


this  immense  array  of  novel  and  brilliant  relations  and 
agencies. 

Only  a passion  to  save  can  make  the  end  to  master  the 
method  in  such  a time  as  this,  but  such  a passion  is  attain- 
able, and  the  way  to  attain  it  is  surely  evermore  the  same 
old  way  — draw  closer  to  God  and  closer  to  man,  or,  in  one 
word,  draw  closer  to  Christ,  who  is  both  God  and  man. 

The  attitude  of  the  missionary  or  the  missionary  sup- 
porter resembles  that  of  the  orchestral  performer,  who  in 
one  quick,  infallible  second  glances  from  the  midst  of  the 
intricate  score  to  the  beat  of  the  baton  of  his  leader ; so,  in 
the  midst  of  the  bewildering  score  of  the  modern  age,  the 
true  man  of  missions  fixes  his  eye  upon  Christ  and  upon 
Christ’s  errand  to  save,  and  in  the  thrilling  supremacy  of  that 
one  idea  he  finds  the  key  to  a practical  answer  in  all  ques- 
tions of  detail. 

I confess,  honored  brethren,  that  I have  thus  construed 
your  demand  upon  me  at  the  present  moment,  that,  in  view  of 
all  the  critical  considerations  of  the  hour,  the  fittest  service 
I might  render  would  not  be  to  attempt  to  pursue  any  side- 
track of  special  discussion,  still  less  to  seek  any  novelties  of 
address,  but  simply  to  invoke  afresh  the  old  splendor  of  the 
missionary  enthusiasm  ; for  it  surely  is  the  true  solvent  of  all 
difficulties,  the  true  guide  to  wise  and  happy  adjustments. 
To  realize  it  anew,  in  all  its  ancient  fervor,  will  surely,  more 
than  anything  else,  exalt  this  anniversary,  give  harmony  to 
its  counsels  and  practical  force  to  its  decisions,  making  it  a 
blessing  to  our  churches  throughout  the  land  and  to  our 
mission  stations  throughout  the  world. 

I invoke,  then,  in  Christ’s  name,  on  this  occasion,  in 
closing,  the  missionary  spirit.  Springing  from  the  depths 
of  the  great  incarnation  it  enters,  as  Christ  himself  enters, 
into  the  souls  of  his  disciples,  becoming  there  a passion  for 
rescue  in  his  name.  Unlike  the  proselytizing  zeal  of  other 
religions,  it  seeks  not  to  capture  the  man  but  to  renew  him. 
It  sees  man  in  Christ  and  Christ  in  man,  whom  it  at  once 
honors  and  pities  and  yearns  over  with  that  strange  donum 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


31 


lachrymantm — that  “gift  of  tears” — of  which  the  old 
Fathers  speak.  As  in  a kind  of  glowing  and  unworldly 
vision,  it  realizes  at  once  the  love  of  God,  the  worth  of  man, 
the  woe  of  sin,  the  nameless  power  and  pathos  of  the  cross, 
and  it  rushes  forth  with  a lover’s  heart  and  a hero’s  will 
to  bring  the  cross  to  the  sin  — the  Saviour  to  the  man. 

In  this  rush  to  save  all  lesser  things  take  lower  places. 
Difficulties  are  as  nothing.  Oceans,  deserts,  are  crossed  ; 
jungles  are  pierced  ; obscure  dialects  are  mastered.  Dangers 
do  not  daunt,  nor  long  delays  exhaust,  nor  even  failures  chill 
this  missionary  ardor.  It  sings  in  the  music  of  the  immor- 
tal lands.  It  can  receive  a blow  with  a smile,  and  it  gazes 
with  a strange  eagerness  into  every  human  face  in  order  to 
detect  there,  beneath  whatever  degradation,  the  latent  glory 
of  the  soul,  and  establish  there  the  new  similitude  of  the 
Lord.  It  is  at  once  devoted  and  daring.  Its  spokesman  is 
Paul,  who  is  the  father  of  the  chivalric  in  Christian  missions, 
to  whom  nothing  is  quite  Christian  unless  it  stirs  the  blood, 
whose  words  leap  and  tingle. 

“ I go  bound  in  spirit,”  he  cries  ; “ I am  debtor  to  Greek 
and  barbarian  ; ” “I  am  an  ambassador  in  bonds  ; ” “I  am 
in  travail  until  Christ  be  formed  in  you;”  and,  with  a still 
more  unmeasured  intensity,  “ I could  wish  myself  accursed 
from  Christ  for  my  brethren.” 

We  rejoice  in  Keswick  conventions  and  summer  Bible 
readings,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  we  rejoice  in  the  critical 
discussions  of  true  scholars  concerning  the  Scriptures.  The 
cult  of  holiness  and  the  search  after  truth  are  noble  things, 
and  the  light  on  the  brow  of  both  saint  and  scholar  is  lovely 
to  see ; but  must  not  all  issue  in  this  one  tremendous  note  of 
practical  wrestle  to  save  ? 

Down  there  on  the  wet  sand  with  the  life-boat  is  the  place 
for  a Christian,  and  nothing  so  touches  the  very  missionary 
marrow  as  that  low  cry  through  the  lips  of  the  veteran  Paul, 
“ I could  wish  that  I myself  were  anathema  from  Christ  for 
my  brethren.” 

Let  this,  then,  be  the  constant  refrain  of  our  anniversary, 


32 


THE  GAINING  OF  MEN. 


“That  I might  gain,”  “That  I might  gain,”  “That  I might 
by  all  means  save.”  Our  debates  about  method  will  then 
be  like  the  earnest  conference  of  a rescue  party  hurrying  to 
the  relief  of  imperiled  men,  for  otherwise  we  lose  the  per- 
spective of  all  discussion,  unless  we  repeat  at  every  interval 
Paul’s  great  cry. 

If,  then,  we  are  conservative,  let  us  be  so  “ that  we  may 
gain;”  if  liberal,  let  us  be  so  “that  we  may  gain.”  In  the 
thought  of  the  man  yonder,  and  the  Christ  yonder,  we  grasp 
hands,  and  we  shall  go  back  to  our  churches  with  a spirit 
that  shall  make  that  ideal  million  a year  for  foreign  missions 
a solid  actuality  even  in  hard  times,  and  that  vision  of  a score 
of  new  men  from  our  seminaries  for  the  foreign  field  an  im- 
mediate and  blessed  fact. 

We  shall  relight  every  torch.  We  shall  find  the  true 
method  in  realizing  the  true  end  of  missionary  enterprise, 
and,  best  of  all,  this  beloved  Missionary  Board  not  only  will 
continue  to  be,  but  will  become  even  afresh  the  channel  of 
a divine  energy,  the  humble  bearer  into  all  the  earth  of  a 
holy  power  — a power  real  as  Orion,  intimate  as  motherhood, 
overmastering  as  the  sea  — the  power  of  Christ  to  save. 


